by Eden Butler
“He can’t,” Aly answered, seeming surprised that the words had left her mouth. She shrugged when Ethan straightened up to tug off the thin gray pull over he wore. “He can’t play pick-up games unless they’re on the Dolphins facility.”
“What?” Ethan held his shirt in his hand, adjusting the white tee he wore before setting his pull over across the back of the chair he’d just vacated.
“They pay me to tackle, man,” I offered, sipping on my beer. “Can’t jeopardize that.”
My gaze landed on Aly’s face when I saw that blush. That contract stipulation had been one of the few things that had made Aly happy when I first signed with the Dolphins.
Ethan looked at Aly, as though just remembering to get permission to leave her long enough for a pick-up game. “Go ahead, just don’t get all stinky. The other passengers on the plane will kick you out without a parachute.”
Ethan jogged toward the basketball courts my parents had installed when Koa began summer programs on CPU’s campus, looking back only once before he was on that court and the game started.
“Ransom, what was that diner we used to go to in Jackson?” Mom asked, leaning back against the chair she sat in with Cass and the girl he’d brought lounging in the seat across from her. Johnny sat on her left fussing about some message he read while Mark called to him from inside. I moved away from the bar and stood next to Mom, glancing at her face before I spotted the small congregation out on the docks, including my father and Brian. “You know,” she continued, pulling on my sleeve, “the place that served chicken and waffles? The one with all the grease on the floor.”
“Hickman’s,” I offered, shifting my gaze to Cass as he nodded, fawning over my mother like a fucking groupie. It didn’t sit well with me, or my father, it seemed, that this guy wanted my mother’s attention, all of it, by the way he inched closer toward her, elbows on his knees and a complete disregard for his date.
On the dock, my father had his back to the water and Brian at his side, speaking animatedly with his hands moving and several of the assistant coaches around him. Kona, though, only nodded once or twice, giving the indication that he was paying attention. He wasn’t. That was plain to see with how he kept watching my mother and, with an even closer stare, Cass. Dad met my eyes, face set tight and then he sighed, reaching in his pocket to take hold of his cell.
“What’s going on?” I heard behind me, looking down when Aly stood at my side.
I led her away from my mother and her little groupie, watching my father as he walked away from his friends and took his call. We came to the fire pit and stood across it so that my mother and my father were at either of my sides and no one else could hear us.
“I have no idea.” Rubbing my neck, I set my Abita on the ground and looked at her, hoping maybe she could give me some details about what I’d missed living in Miami. “You got a clue what’s all this shit is? He’s grumpy and snapping at Koa, she’s acting like she hasn’t slept in a month and in the middle of all this drama is that asshole.” I nodded to my left knowing Aly would know I meant Cass. “You hear anything at all?”
“No,” she said, turning to glance at Mom and then moving her gaze over to the basketball court. If Ethan was worried about her talking to me, he didn’t show it. He was guarding Tristian, tried like hell to get the ball from my cousin and did a piss poor job of it. When Aly turned back, she crossed her arms, shivering a little. “Keira has been a little tight-lipped lately.” She glanced at me, like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to say whatever was on her mind just then. “And you know Kona can’t stand me, barely acknowledges me, in fact, so he hasn’t said anything either.”
“That’s not true, makamae.” My face pinched, felt tight at her little confession. Dad had been a little resentful toward Aly for leaving me, but that was a long time ago. “He doesn’t…” I started, shocked that she actually believed that. “Everyone loves you.”
Aly held her breath, fighting the smile that made her lips twitch before she managed to say anything else. And then, just like that, with one cough, she got back on topic. “Mack hasn’t said anything…”
“She wouldn’t know.”
“She sees way more than you think.” Aly shivered again and I couldn’t stand it. I pulled my hoodie over my head and offered it to her, draping it over her shoulders when she didn’t take it.
“Thanks,” she said, drawing the sleeves tight around her. I didn’t miss the way she watched me, how her eyes moved up and down, then that gaze lingered over my chest. My shirt was thin, a vintage Star Wars tee with a frayed hem. But the cotton was soft and it fit me well. I knew Aly recognized it. She’d slept in it about a hundred times.
She smirked a little when I winked at her and once again looked over her shoulder.
“If you want to go watch him play…”
“I don’t,” she said turning back toward me.
For a second, my parents’ issues got pushed back, replaced instead with the urgent need to apologize to Aly. She’d brush off my excuse, pretend it didn’t bother her because that’s what she did, but it still needed to be said.
I pushed the beer bottle from my path, inching closer toward her with my hands in my pockets, and glanced over at the court. Ethan wasn’t paying attention to anything but the layup Tristian managed and I took my chance before I lost it. “Listen, Aly,” I started, not looking at her. “The other day…”
“It’s fine.” Typical. This woman was so bullheaded.
“The other day,” I continued, ignoring her interruption, “I was an asshole. You came here to share your good news and I…” I looked down at her, shoulders relaxed. “I didn't stop to listen, not really. All I knew is that I wanted you. But in my defense, I haven’t ever stopped wanting you.” She didn’t move, stood completely still as she watched me. That hum of energy pulsed between us, like some sort of instinctual call we both tried to disregard. But it heated the air around us and shot through Aly’s eyes as she stared at me, unblinking. “I know I shouldn’t say that. I know you’ve got…other ties now.” When I glanced over her head, right at the court, Ethan was heading toward us, but Koa held him back, tugged on his arm and started yammering away as only he could. Ethan, though, managed a few steps, still humoring my little brother as they made their way slowly from the court. “I want you to know that if all you can give me, if all you want from me is my friendship, then it’s yours.”
Silently I urged her to speak, wanting to hear her thoughts before her man interrupted, but Aly seemed a little hesitant to answer me. She kept my hoodie around her shoulders but her gaze went to the flames in front of her. “We tried this once before.”
“Yeah, well, we were horny kids.”
She jerked her head up, laughing despite the mood. “And we’re not now?” I tilted my head, not bothering to return her smile. “Sorry,” she said. Her smile disappeared.
“You know…shit, Aly, I love you.” She had to know. “I’m not denying that. But more than loving you I want you to be happy. I want you being in a place I clearly couldn’t put you.”
“Ransom…”
“No…it’s fine.” The scratch of my fingernails against my stubble when I scratched my chin was the only sound disrupting the hiss of the flames as I spoke. “I’m not looking for pity here. I spent six years with you. I loved you, still do, but if all you can offer me now is friendship, then, hell, I’ll take it. I can’t just walk out of your life. All of this,” I nodded toward the house and my family, “you’re part of it too. Just because we aren’t…we’ll never…” I exhaled and crossed my arms so I would keep from touching her again. “Well. You’re ours no matter who you’re with and I’m sorry I forgot that the other day.”
I looked down, biting back the other words that threatened to leave my mouth. There were so many other things I could say. I could beg. I could get on my knees and offer my blood just for another chance with her. But that’s not what she needed. Despite what was in my heart, what I really wanted, I did w
ant her happy. “It…it won’t happen again.”
“Shoushou…” The small whisper of that name had me tightening my eyes and I could open them only when she stood next to me, close, slipping her fingers between mine.
“Before, in the past,” I started, “anytime I upset you, one dance would make things better.” Her eyes were bright, reflecting the movement of the flames in her pupils. “But I guess asking you to dance right now would be out of bounds.”
A smile like that, felt like it was reserved for only me. “Just a little.”
My hand moved on its own, coming up so I could move the hair from her shoulder, standing close enough to dance with her if she wanted. “No one moves the way you do, nani.”
She didn’t take my hand, leading me in a dance that would only complicate things further. When she spoke, those sweet words broke what was left of my heart. “No one moves the way we do.”
Just then, with those green eyes glistening and the sweet smell of her shampoo working my senses over, I wanted to hold her, kiss her so soundly that she remembered no one else owned those lips but me. It would have been easy. But she wanted Ethan. She had said that things were finished with us. As much as I hated it, I had to respect that.
On the steps leading to the patio, my father had intercepted Ethan as he had left the basketball court, and the lawyer didn’t seem too worried that Aly was standing so close to me, looking too comfortable in my presence.
“So, am I forgiven?” I asked, squeezing her fingers.
Her head moved before she answered and she repressed a chuckle. “Always.”
“Good. I’m glad.” I stepped back, hearing Ethan’s voice as he trailed after my father. “Now that means you have to text me and every once in a while, call me.” I tilted my head, nudging her arm. “That’s what friends do, right?”
“Right,” she agreed.
“So, Ransom, your dad tells me you have a Monday night game next week?” Ethan didn’t get my attention, not immediately. My eyes seemed compelled to stay on that beautiful face, but she blinked, glancing at her man and my father and took a step back before I nodded at Ethan.
“Yeah, against the Broncos. Home.” Dad seemed a little tense, but still smiled at Ethan when he looked between me and my father. “I tried to get him to come down to watch it…”
“I have a job, keika kane and other…things upcoming,” Dad interrupted me. “But I’ll be watching. Your mom invited the CPU coaches and their wives to watch.” I thought he mumbled something about Mom hating having to watch me play—she didn’t like seeing me get hurt when it happened—but Dad’s voice was too muted for me to understand.
It didn’t matter anyway. Ethan’s excited tone drew my attention away from my father. “Here?” Ethan asked, making Aly frown at him. When Dad nodded, the lawyer lost his cool a little and the fanboy showed up in full force. He didn’t bother hiding his eagerness, kept nodding at my father, grin huge and ridiculous, moving on the balls of his feet like he couldn’t contain his excitement. “I’d love to watch a game with you, Kona, if you’ve got room for one more.”
“Ethan…” Aly started, getting only the smallest glance of attention from her fiancé.
“He doesn’t mind, do you, Kona?” The man smiled between Aly, who wilted, embarrassed, and my father who looked to the side, at me and back to the patio as though he searched for someone to get him out of this awkward mess. “It’ll be fun. And, you know, I think the next time the Dolphins play the Steamers, I can get you and Keira tickets. We have a box at the stadium.”
It took effort to keep my mouth shut. Ethan wasn’t thinking, didn’t realize my folks didn’t need some lawyer working deals to get them tickets. Kona was a former Super Bowl-winning lineman, two times over. My mom was a Grammy-winning songwriter and producer. They had connections, but Ethan was a fan, an eager damn fan, and Aly’s new man. I wouldn’t embarrass him or do any correcting. Still, I can’t say I didn’t enjoy what an ass he was making of himself. Didn’t particularly like watching Aly squirm or seeing the tension work itself over my father’s face, but that little smug asshole inside my head was happy Ethan didn’t come off as the slick fucker he always seemed to be.
When Dad’s eye twitched, I tried to play off the awkwardness. “It’s cool. No need to go out of your way, Ethan. Maybe…”
“Keiki kane, it’s fine,” Dad interrupted, patting the lawyer’s shoulder with a grin on his face. “You’re Aly’s man, Ethan. Of course you’re welcome to join us.”
Moving my gaze between the three of them, I kept quiet, taking in the grin Ethan shared with my father and the way Aly’s blinked, as though she couldn’t believe Kona would say that. It had been a strain, with the attitude Dad had given her after she left me and Miami, and though he was civil to her, he was also always a little cold. Recovering, Aly faced me, hugging me with her most of her body not touching mine. I didn’t like the distance.
“We have to go, Ransom.” She stepped back, grabbing Ethan’s hand when he came to her side. “He’s got a plane to catch and I’ve got competition numbers to choreograph.” Ethan shook my hand, tapping my shoulder once, but I mostly kept my eyes directed at Aly and the odd way she clung to her man, how she avoided my touch and my father’s attention.
“Thanks for coming,” I told her, grazing her arm before she dragged Ethan away.
“Be safe,” she threw over her shoulder and followed Ethan away from me, from our home and the place where she belonged. I managed, at least, to keep my chest from cracking in two as I watched her walk away.
Mortar on my skin
Brick-By-Brick
Walled me in
Until
You chip away
The dust.
I crumble
Until
Nothing keeps me hidden.
Eight
I was back at the lake house that weekend, for Ransom’s game. It was so strange to be in this place, with these people and feel so out of my element. Keira kept such a warm, inviting home. It had changed from the place it first was when I looked after Koa as a toddler. The bourgeoisie décor her society-minded mother favored was gone. No marble. No blingy chandeliers. Everything now was rustic, homey, like something out of a farmhouse fantasy. There were hand scrapped hardwood floors and light gray walls, pretty green wreaths hanging from chippy shutters that held family photos in rustic wood frames. And it always smelled like gardenias—just like my grann’s garden in early spring when the dark evergreen gardenia bushes bloomed the largest, sweetest-smelling white flowers.
There should have been no anxiety. There should have been only the familiar sensation of comfort because, for better or worse, I was home. But it was not the same, not since, in Kona’s eyes, I abandoned Ransom in Miami. Not since I’d licked my wounds and made attempts at starting to forget. And especially not since my engagement to someone not named Ransom.
Ethan, God love him, was over the moon, following Kona around like the big man was Elvis and he, Ethan, had delegated himself as platonic groupie. My fiancé tried to pull off a relaxed swag he couldn’t quite manage next to Kona. They were elbow to elbow on that leather sofa, beers in their hands and glancing at them, I wondered if Ethan knew he’d mimicked Kona’s stance, the slouch of his back, even the way he held his beer between his large fingers. Ethan’s excitement, I understood. Kona was dynamic. Strong, a perfect male specimen. Over the years, I’d seen grown men wither in his company—forget that he wasn’t some Polynesian warrior god. Kona was a man like any other, just with a touch more masculinity and damn sight more vigor. Ransom had gotten all the best of both his parents—the talent, the charm, the ridiculous physical perfection. It was what had drawn me to him all those years ago. But it was his heart that made me love him.
No. Loved. Past tense.
I shot a glance around the living room, reminding myself to hide my discomfort. No one knew I was thinking of Ransom. No one would guess that being here, surrounded by his family while my fiancé hung onto eve
ry word Kona said, made me feel unaccountably nervous.
“Aly, here. Hold this.” It didn’t matter to Makana that I wasn’t with her brother anymore. If I was at her house, I became her life-sized doll—letting the girl braid my hair, paint my nails ridiculous bright colors or, like now, hold still the end of the thread she was braiding, fashioning all those purples and pinks into a friendship bracelet I was expected to wear.
“What’s this pattern?” I asked as Mack tugged on my wrist when I tried to turn my hand to see it.
“Duh, basket weave,” she answered, shaking her head at my obvious question. Those purple and pink threads were interlocked and, looking closely, I realized it was, obviously a basket weave.
“Sorry, grosoulye tifi. Geez.” That laugh was infectious and it tuned out the noise coming from the living room where Ethan joined Kona and the other coaches and their wives cheering on Ransom and his teammates.
Across the table Keira looked a little uneasy, a lot tired. She leaned against the dining room chair, one leg tucked under her as she played a silent song on her electric-acoustic guitar. The headphones she wore weaved between her messy bun, the output plugged into the amp and silenced the strum of her guitar. It also drowned out the roar of rowdy, masculine voices from the living room. Like me, Keira hated watching Ransom play. It was too stressful. Each defensive play required breath holding and no small amount of prayers that Ransom would tackle or block and be done with it. He’d just been injured too often to make watching him play anything but nerve-wracking.
Like she knew I was watching, Keira glanced at me, looking over her shoulder toward the television. The Dolphins were up by ten and the defense was about to take over. Keira took a breath when Kona stood, moving around the room like he was too excited to keep still. It was the first I’d seen of him in the past few months where he wasn’t sulking or on edge. Keira must have noticed it too because she kept watching her husband, fingers still strumming as she followed his movements.
